The Unimaginable
by fearlessly
Summary: Blaine watches Kurt from across the yard. Kurt is still Kurt, just a little less animated and a little bit unkempt; but he's still meticulous and graceful in the way he moves. He is still beautiful, Blaine thinks, even in grief.


**A/N ... Please be aware that** **this story deals with the death of a child** **. If you proceed, please do so with caution. Also, this is inspired by Hamilton's song It's Quiet Uptown, written by the genius Lin-Manuel Miranda. I own nothing.**

The first night spent in their temporary rental house in Hudson, NY had been the beginning of a long and dark journey for Kurt and Blaine. It had been the first lonely night of many. Shortly after their arrival, Blaine had settled himself down on the front-porch swing, curled his legs under him with a cup of tea, and had watched his husband amble down the walk and onto the sidewalk disappearing from view. Kurt hadn't returned for three hours, and when he finally did, Blaine was still on the porch, in the darkness, staring out at the sky, his tea untouched.

Two months prior, Blaine would have followed Kurt. He would have walked with his husband – hand in hand, and reveled in the joy of just being next to him, both of them happy. They would have explored the quaint town, which was about an hour and a half's drive north of their home in Manhattan.

Two months ago, things had been easier.

Since then, the couple had been in an endless spiral of gut-wrenching sadness, undeniable grief, and utter heartbreak. Kurt and Blaine had been navigating each other in silence, trying to swallow their guilt, hide their resentment, and fight through the loneliness.

Two months ago, their son had been alive.

They had met little Levi twelve years prior, when he was just three days old. After just one visit, Kurt and Blaine filed the adoption papers, having fallen in love with the boy instantly. They took him home shortly after, cared for him, raised him, and loved him through everything. Kurt and Blaine learned how to be parents together. There was nothing more important to them than being the best fathers they could possibly be.

Alongside being parents, Kurt and Blaine had worked hard and had been blessed with much success within their careers, both well known in the Broadway community. Despite all their accolades, though, the greatest joy in their lives had been their son, and each other. Family always came first.

Now, as Blaine sits in the familiar porch swing and watches his husband leave for his walk, he realizes - for the first time, that he and Kurt have been stuck in the same routine. They have been dealing (not very well) with the anguish and heartache for the past month, since the day after Levi's funeral when they had been whisked away by their family and professional teams to the town of Hudson.

Blaine would spend his days sitting in the upstairs study staring out the window into the backyard, as Kurt sat in the garden caressing the flowers, one by one, over and over again. In the evenings, after forcing themselves to eat (although many meals were skipped), Blaine would sit on the porch, and Kurt would leave for his walk. Sometimes he returned early enough that Blaine was still on the porch, but sometimes it was so late that Blaine had long retired up to bed. Blaine's location didn't really register with Kurt because, either way, he would always trudge up the steps and fall into bed with his clothes on, teeth and skin-care routine long forgotten.

Their teams and family had planned for Blaine and Kurt to get away from the media and fans, which for the most part meant well with their outpouring of condolences, but were entirely overwhelming and exhausting. They were to move to the small and quaint town of Hudson temporarily so that they could get back on their feet, grieve the death of their son in peace, and come out able to breathe again, and ready to continue their lives.

That had been the plan.

But Blaine can't even fathom how to continue their lives. How does one breathe, let alone live after the loss of a child? How does one mend their shattered heart and go on without the most important person in their life? All Blaine feels is overwhelming sadness, guilt, resentment, and utter loss. He is terrified that, along with his son, he will also lose his husband. He knows these feelings are dangerous, but he doesn't have it in him to fight. It is easier to let his marriage and his life unravel.

Deep down inside, somewhere Blaine can't access right now, he is concerned for Kurt. He loves him of course and wants to support and help him through his grief – because Blaine knows that it must be worse for Kurt. Unlike himself, Kurt had been there the night Levi died. But the truth is, Blaine feels resentful, and he can't find his way past that. All he wants is to hold his son in his arms – even if it's for one last time.

The night of the accident Blaine had been at work. He was kept late in rehearsals, so he'd had to bail on his husband and son. He and Kurt had planned to take Levi out to a Yankees game. Not wanting to disappoint his son, Kurt had decided to take him alone and have Blaine meet them at the stadium later. Kurt and Levi never made it to the game. Kurt hadn't seen the reckless driver until it was far too late. The large SUV had slammed head on into the passenger side of Kurt's BMW, killing the boy instantly.

The two things Blaine is grateful for is that his son hadn't suffered, and that his husband came out of it virtually unscathed – at least physically. Because emotionally, Kurt had been in shock, and probably still was. Kurt doesn't remember the details of the accident or the hours that followed. Blaine doesn't know if Kurt's brain physically can't recall, or if he is blocking the horror of that night – maybe a little of both. He doesn't blame Kurt for their son's death, but he can't help but feel bitter. And guilty. He feels so guilty for not being there. If he had been in the car, maybe he could have prevented it. At the very least, he would have been sitting where Levi had been. He, being bigger, could have survived the impact, and even if he hadn't, his son would have. His son would be alive.

XXXX

The only thing keeping Kurt sane is his nightly walks. They somehow allow him to take his mind off that horrible fateful night. They distract him from replaying the little bits he can remember, and although it's just bits and pieces – mostly bright lights and screeching sounds, remembering even a second of the night he lost his son is enough – more than enough.

As he walks, he mindlessly counts his steps in silence, often losing count and having to start over. It's a monotonous beat that keeps him grounded, keeps him walking, keeps him from running away and abandoning the husband he leaves on the porch every night - because he doesn't deserve Blaine. He is not worthy of Blaine; how can he be when he wasn't even strong enough to save their son – to keep their son safe? How can Blaine still love him? _Does_ Blaine still love him?

He knows he still loves Blaine. In fact, he is deeply concerned about him. He sees how much weight he's lost, and he sees the vacant stare in his eyes. He supposes it's not much different from the way he must look. He's caught glimpses of himself in the mirror. He's seen his scant body, his forty-two years of life showing blatantly on his face, the grey shimmering alongside his auburn, and the way his shoulders sag in defeat. As much as he loves his husband, Kurt just can't come out of the darkness long enough to approach him, to ask if he's okay, to comfort him, and to ask for forgiveness.

Every night Kurt walks by a church. It's the only leg of his walk that makes him stop talking to himself. He lets the silence and the sanctity of the building over-take him. Kurt has never attended church; he's always believed that if God doesn't accept him as he is, then he can't accept God. But he realizes that he's not here for himself, and really he has nothing to lose. So on a particularly bad night, Kurt enters the church. It's quiet, almost solemn. The hand-full of people who are there make no notice of him. He sits quietly in the back and prays. He's not sure he's doing it right, but that doesn't really matter. What matters is that he's trying. He wishes for peace for his son and for peace of mind for his husband. He can't bring himself to ask God for anything for himself.

Kurt spends his days in the garden talking to Levi. Mostly he talks about Hudson, knowing that Levi would love the town. Just the fact that it bears his Uncle Finn's name would make it "cool". He would also like the quiet and the simplicity of it, and that it is surrounded by nature. Levi's favourite past time was to climb trees and rustle the branches, making the summer leaves fall like giant green snowflakes. Kurt wonders sometimes if Levi can hear him and if the notion of his dead son listening is comforting, or if it just makes everything worse. So sometimes Kurt doesn't talk at all, and just takes in the flowers. He caresses them, smells them, and daydreams of better times.

Flowers have always reminded Kurt of his mother, and since Levi was a baby, Kurt and Blaine would take him out to the park to enjoy flowers too. Kurt remembers fondly every time he caresses the petals. His heart clenches as he thinks about what it felt like to caress his newborn son's cheek. Even as he grew older, Levi would let his fathers caress him, snuggle him, and kiss him. Kurt wishes he had hugged him more.

XXXX

One night, a few weeks later, after he has returned from his longest walk yet, Kurt has a feeling of realization. A little bit of fire had ignited in his gut as he walked and thought about his husband. He had walked through the night, only returning home when he could see the outskirts of the morning sun pushing up into the horizon, casting the blackness into a burnt orange.

They have both been silent for so long; Kurt doesn't know what makes him start to talk – maybe it's the praying, or maybe it's the sight of Blaine, who is still up and sitting on the porch swing with his mug of tea in hand. Kurt knows that Blaine didn't rise early – he's been up all night, too. The redness in his eyes and the heaviness of his lashes give Blaine away.

Instead of going into the house and to bed, Kurt sits beside him, sending the swing to sway slightly – for the first time since they've moved in. Blaine doesn't look at him, only clutches his mug tighter. Kurt watches him for a bit. He can see the quiver in Blaine's lip, the flutter of his lashes, the profile of his jawline, and his unkempt curls framing his face. He's still beautiful, Kurt thinks, even in grief.

"I'm drowning," Kurt breathes suddenly. It feels like he's letting out the breath he's been holding for almost three months.

Blaine startles softly because he hasn't heard Kurt speak for months, aside from his barely audible mumbles in the garden. He doesn't look up though. He can't. The shattered pieces that remain of his heart will disintegrate into dust if he has to look into his husband's heart-broken eyes.

He knows Kurt is suffering, but he's suffering too. And he doesn't know if he's ready to suffer together, to _grieve_ together. How can he let Kurt in? How can he forgive him? How can he forgive himself?

"You don't have to talk," Kurt continues. "But, please will you listen? I need someone to listen, because," he pauses. "Be-because I feel alone, dangerously alone."

Blaine flinches and looks down into his tea.

"I even tried to pray. I tried to talk to God," Kurt stops talking because, at his confession, Blaine looks up, his eyes wide. Blaine remains silent, though, so Kurt continues. "It didn't really help," Kurt confesses, "because I just don't believe in Him."

Blaine turns his head to look out at the horizon, now growing brighter with pinks and yellows.

"But I believe in you," Kurt says. "I believe in us. I believe in the battles we've won, and I believe in our love."

Blaine swallows as a tear slides down his cheek.

Kurt whispers, "I believe in our son..."

A sob breaks through Blaine and he rises, suddenly. He sets his mug down and hugs his arms around himself, but he doesn't leave, and he doesn't turn his back to his husband. He just stands there. Every emotion he's been feeling since his son died courses through his veins like a fever.

Kurt wants to go to him; wants to hug him and tell him that everything is going to be okay - but he can't do that. Kurt just doesn't know if things will ever be okay. Surely, they will never be the same. The happy and loving family of three is gone forever.

Instead, Kurt says what's in his heart. "I believe in the way he taught us to love – It was different than what we knew, but it was just as fearless, and just as true."

The wretched look of breakdown on Blaine's face persuades Kurt to get up and move closer to him. "I would trade places with him in an instant, you know, even though it's impossible." Kurt's watches as Blaine retreats more into himself. "I know you're not ready to forgive me. And I really don't know if I deserve your forgiveness. Hell, I probably don't deserve your love," Kurt's voice breaks desperately. "But please Blaine, just let me be near you. Let me remain by your side until we're ready to grieve together. For now, that will be enough."

Kurt is crying now, but if he doesn't get everything off his chest he'll suffocate. "I don't know how to forgive myself. I don't know how to ask for _your_ forgiveness. But I know you, Blaine. I know my husband. I know who I married. I'm not going to give up on you, and I'm not going to let you give up on me because Levi would _never_ give up on us."

At the mention of his son's name, Blaine can't take anymore. His hand flies up to cover his mouth, as he tries to stifle the guttural sobs which leave his body. He doesn't want to lose it in front of Kurt because once he starts, he won't stop. All he can do is run away. He stumbles inside, slamming the door behind him, leaving Kurt alone to watch the sunrise, which becomes a bright array of blurred colours, through his tears.

XXXX

The next evening, Blaine approaches Kurt. After Blaine had stormed into the house and Kurt had watched the sunrise, they had cried themselves to sleep in separate bedrooms. The day slipped away as they slept only waking when night blanketed the sky again.

Now, as Kurt pushes open the screen door to go out for his nightly walk, Blaine stops him on the porch, his hand around Kurt's wrist. Blaine can't bring himself to say anything. He is afraid that if he opens his mouth, his sobs will overtake him and he won't _ever_ stop. Right now, all he wants is to be near his husband, to feel the warmth that he has never been able to live without. Blaine tentatively slides his hand into Kurt's. When their fingers intertwine, it feels like coming home. Blaine gives a squeeze, Kurt gives a hint of a sad smile as they descend the porch steps and amble out into the street.

They walk for hours. Kurt leads the way, knowing the streets and pathways like the back of his hand. Hudson is small compared to Manhattan. Kurt has walked the perimeter, as well as all the streets in the heart of town more times than he can count. Silently, he shows Blaine every corner of the town that has graciously accepted them in their grief. It's summer, so the temperature is warm even in the late hours; they're not cold by any means, but they huddle together as they walk anyway, and eventually Blaine loops his arm through Kurt's and lays his head on his shoulder. They walk past the church, but don't stop until they reach the small park down the street. Kurt sits, taking a respite, as he has every night for the past month. Blaine sits beside him and looks upward at the streetlamps glowing like giant fireflies in the night.

As Kurt, stares at the playground beyond the trees, he remembers when Levi would run ahead of them in the park to reach the playground and maximize his playtime. Little did he know it gave his fathers precious time to steal kisses as they closed the distance to their son. This memory makes Kurt break the silence. "It's quiet here. Do you like it?"

He doesn't need to say more, and Blaine doesn't need to answer. He just shuffles a bit closer to his husband and follows his gaze to the playground.

XXXX

That same night, once they return home, they end up sharing a bed again. Nothing romantic happens, their minds are just not there yet. They simply curl up together in the silence and drift off to sleep, both their hearts a wee bit lighter than yesterday.

When Blaine wakes the next morning, it's to an empty bed. The bedroom is warm as the sun filters in through the windows, and the air smells of fresh-baked banana muffins. Kurt hasn't made them in three months, so it's a welcome scent. They were Levi's favourite, Blaine remembers. The symbolism of that is enough to rouse Blaine out of bed, forego a shower, and dress quickly. He makes his way down the stairs, looking for Kurt, who is nowhere to be found. Blaine knows where he is though. As he walks through the kitchen, he grabs a muffin and takes a bite. The flavour floods his mind with memories of happier days. He takes a couple more bites, then sets it down and makes his way out to the garden.

Blaine watches Kurt from across the yard. He can't help but smile as he watches Kurt move around the bushes, watering the roses. Kurt is still Kurt, just a little less animated and a little bit unkempt; but he's still meticulous and graceful in the way he moves. He is still beautiful, Blaine thinks, even in grief.

Blaine, not betraying his silence, approaches slowly and softly. Still, his husband hears him and turns around. He notices Blaine's eyes. They're not as vacant as they have been; they shine with heart-break, but with something else, too. Kurt thinks it might be resilience and a little bit of hope. "Blaine…" Kurt starts.

Blaine silences him with a kiss. The press of his lips is soft, tender, brief, but deliberate in its purpose. He slides his hands down Kurt's arms slowly, locks their fingers together, and inches closer until their foreheads touch.

"I-I miss him," Blaine finally whispers, his lip quivering, and his eyes flooding with tears. "I miss you," he adds, brokenly. "I know there's nothing I can do to get him back. But Kurt, I refuse to lose you too. I am not going to let you go without a fight. I won't let us lose each other in this. We may be broken. We may _remain_ broken and never truly heal, but we will do so together."

Kurt responds by releasing the sobs that have been caught in his throat. With shattered but unified hearts, they cry together. They leaning against each other in the garden, their faces wet, and their hands shaking as they caress each other's faces again and again.

XXXX

A year later, Kurt steps out onto the porch and joins Blaine on the swing. He places their mugs down, sits beside his husband, and sets the swing to sway carefully. Blaine smiles at him and scoots over, drawing his arm around Kurt's shoulders, as they gaze at the intensifying stars.

It has been a hard road to get where they are, and they are by no means done. They have fought hard, sometimes apart, sometimes together – mostly together, and they know they still have battles ahead of them. It's only been a year, and that is nowhere near enough time to cope with the unimaginable loss of a child – they both know that forever will not be long enough. But they've vowed to do it together, as they have done with everything in their lives.

Days after their reunion, of sorts, in the garden, they called their managers to inform them that they would be staying in Hudson indefinitely, and would be on hiatus from work. The truth is, they both like the quiet, being small-town boys at heart. They've accumulated enough success and wealth throughout the years to allow them the freedom to take all the time they need. They have focused on truly grieving and on learning how to move on without their son, together.

They joined bereavement groups and signed up for grief counseling, separately and as a couple. Kurt is learning to forgive himself, and to let go of the guilt. It's a work in progress. Still, there are days where he spends the entirety of it in bed, crying and wallowing in self-loathing and self-blame. Those are the days when Blaine is strongest – never leaving Kurt's side and reminding him that he is worthy and loved. Blaine is also learning how to forgive himself and let go of the resentment. And when Blaine is the one having a bad day, Kurt is there to raise him up and remind him that it is okay to cry, to grieve, and that he will never have to do it alone.

Three months ago, during the week of the first anniversary of their son's death, Kurt and Blaine called in reinforcements. They knew they'd never be able to survive it alone, so they flew their families out to Hudson for a visit. The couple's parents and brothers stayed with them for two weeks. Within that time, every member of their family gathered around them and rallied the strongest support group possible. Among tears, as well as laughter, many stories about Levi were shared. Kurt and Blaine were reminded that they aren't alone; they have family and friends who love them, and who loved their son.

A couple days after their family left, Kurt and Blaine knew they would be okay. The house was once again empty – a stark reminder of just how lonely it was without Levi. They were forced to again acclimatise to life without their son. They had been dreading the departure of their families, because an empty house would only add to their sense of loss. But when they finally settled and looked around, they realized that they still had each other – and even-though a large part of their hearts were missing, they fulfilled one another. They always had. They knew they always would.

Kurt and Blaine still meet in the garden every morning. Sometimes Kurt will wake first to bake muffins and make coffee. Once everything is ready, he takes their breakfast out to the small picnic table Blaine built for the garden. He revels in having a few minutes of solitude before an adorably sleep-rumpled Blaine joins him. Sometimes Blaine will beat him there, and Kurt will find him weeding, grooming, or watering the bushes. The garden is their special place for them to remember and talk about Levi, not that they can't or don't in any other location, but the garden just fits them so nicely.

They also still take walks, which have become an after-dinner ritual. They go together, Kurt not needing to venture out on the town alone anymore. Some days, when the weather is particularly nice – not too hot, or cold – they walk for an hour or two. Most nights though, they don't stay out for long as they prefer to return home in time to watch a movie or, what has become more common, make love before going to sleep in each other's arms.

One particular July night, as they ready themselves for their nightly walk, Blaine turns to his husband and takes his hand. He brings it to his lips and kisses every knuckle. His eyes travel upwards in a gaze until he reaches Kurt's blues. When Kurt smiles at him, he smiles in return and tugs his husband closer, wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist. "I like it here. It's quiet," Blaine says simply.

Kurt knows they could never fill the void that Levi's death has left in their souls. But in that moment, upon hearing Blaine's words, he realizes that they will truly be okay, and that they are strong enough to persevere in the name of their son.

"It is," Kurt responds with a smile. He presses a kiss to the corner of Blaine's mouth and tugs his hand, leading him down the steps and into the street. A few blocks away, when they pass the church, they don't go in. Instead, they walk towards the park and come to sit on what has become their bench. When a soft summer breeze rustles the tree above them, making leaves snow down upon them, they look at each other in wonder, and can't help the sweet laughter that fills their hearts.


End file.
